 |
||
|
by Cyb |
|
| Diary, I will copy down the words
from my brother's last letter to me. In the event that
something happens to me, perhaps Master Lex will find you
and piece together the evidence, if he ever stops making
Fruity-related programs on his computer. Anyway. Here goes: My dearest brother, I know things have been difficult between us. That time we both tried to procure a single job opening at Dancing Men of La Mancha, and I stole your favorite see-through vinyl disco pants, it was only the beginning of our many fights. If I could go back in time, I would turn down the position I so unfairly won. There were many times I wronged you. The time I tried to sell you to slave traders for a handful of cash. The time I replaced your strawberry body oil with cayenne arthritis ointment. Oh the list goes on and on. I know the time has come for us to part. We may die before we reach safety. I fear, brother, that evil is in my nature, like table dancing is in yours, but I will try to fight it for the sake of our Madre. I hope I am a better man when I see you again, but if I am for the worse, if I am truly evil and try to harm you, then I must beg you to put me out of my sexy gorgeous misery. Your sibling, E. |
||
 |
|
 |
